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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27476827">Flight</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SugarsweetRomantic/pseuds/SugarsweetRomantic'>SugarsweetRomantic</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Belle Writes Kinktober 2020 [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hermitcraft RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blow Jobs, F/M, Kinktober 2020, Mythology References, Prose Poem, References to Ancient Greek Religion &amp; Lore</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:41:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>150</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27476827</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SugarsweetRomantic/pseuds/SugarsweetRomantic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate, // Hate of my sin, grounded on sinful loving </i><br/>~ Shakespeare, sonnet 142</p><p>Or: "Cleo gives Ex head: The Prose Poem".</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Evil Xisuma/ZombieCleo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Belle Writes Kinktober 2020 [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1960801</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Flight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The line between hate and lust is a fine one. Both are so passionate, so full of fire. It consumes the soul and leaves every synapse burning, flames devouring the mind like water devours sugar. Intoxicated, a body led by impulses, where conscious thought departs, leaving only instinct and overload in its wake. Causing tremors, tears, laughter, sweat. A curious phenomenon, even to the most confident of men.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fiery red, too, is the mane obscuring the hard yearning between alabaster thighs. A sighed name, proclaiming, crafting the history of mankind through an opened mouth, dripping off of parted lips to pool in the valley of an uncovered chest, disarmed, enamoured, scarred, vulnerable, strong. Patience, seeker of chaos, is the given command. Mumbled against intimacy, vibrations reign. A shudder. Ready to soar, but with Icarus in the back of his conscience. He leaps. Lest the flames scar him while he flies.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Kinktober prompt: weightless.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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